The sun shone and as we rolled into Bentwater Parks little knots of Ancient Britons were already making their way across the wide open spaces towards the Hush House. The sight of a procession of ungainly figures in hemp robes against the hard landscaping of the airbase was just the first of the timescale clashes that were going to fill the evening. Outside the venue Charlie’s van was parked facing the doors, the bar was open, people were spread out on the grass with picnics and drinks. At about 7.15 the huge hangar doors did their wonderful trick and offered up the cavernous dark interior of the Hush House and the first brave souls started to venture inside.
Soon with all 200 spectators in their seats the doors were sliding shut again and suddenly Roger’s music was echoing round the walls. A Priestly procession appeared out of the murk of the tunnel, a video occupied the whole of the end wall with Charlie on her way to Suffolk and a smartly dressed estate agent was introducing the new development of Swallow’s Drift… We were on our way. Were we going to keep the audience with us? Were they going to be able to follow four stories at the same time? Could they cope with the range of people – alive and dead – filling the stage in front of them? Would the community chorus blend seamlessly with the primary actors? Would all the technical challenges dissolve as the show unfolded?
I needn’t have worried. By the half time break I was fully engaged in the story and could sense that the audience was too. There were tears by the end at the emotional climax delivered with great effect from the dark recesses of the Hush House tunnel.
And to cap it all when the performance was over the doors opened again to reveal a stunning sunset across the airfield.
In the days to come the show will get tighter, faster and more secure as the actors settle into the rhythm of the piece but to Ivan and the company’s great credit Bentwater Roads is up and running and I couldn’t be happier.
